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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27140902">a journey you might not return from</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/proximally/pseuds/proximally'>proximally</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>abandoned works [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game), Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossovers &amp; Fandom Fusions, Gen, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, T for swears, never decided on a narration style so the fragments vary whoops, snippets of actual writing + notes on what could've been</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:07:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,772</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27140902</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/proximally/pseuds/proximally</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Frisk investigates the disappearances of several of their upperclassmen, they expect to just thwart a kidnapping, not get caught up in interstellar warfare.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>abandoned works [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981928</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Good Intentions: Abandoned and Unfinished WIPs</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a journey you might not return from</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title from the lyrics of Mike Townsend (Knows What He's Gotta Do) by The Garages. yes it's a blaseball song. please participate in the cultural event of blaseball. stare into the sun.</p><p>originally written in september-december 2016. please don't talk to me about anything that's happened since then. i don't know and i don't want to know, lmao.</p><p>that said, if you'd like to take the concept and run with it, please feel free! i'd really appreciate this being linked back to though.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’ve heard the rumour since before the summer holidays - even passed it on yourself in idle conversation - but until recently you’d never really believed any of it to be true. Now, though… there’s photographic evidence. A senior cadet had arrived a few days before the start of term, and in passing Commander Iverson’s office, had caught a glimpse of the man speaking with none other than the Monster Queen Toriel. They’d snapped a blurry photo, then fled the scene.</p><p>As a result, the corridors are absolutely <em> heaving </em> . The Galaxy Garrison has had its fair share of famous faces pass through its halls, but rarely one so well-known <em> before </em>attending. Everyone wants to catch a glimpse of the monster Ambassador if they can.</p><p>You <em> kind of </em>understand the hype. They have a pretty impressive resume for a fourteen-year-old - there’s not many that can say they liberated an entire people from a thousand years’ imprisonment and became a diplomat, aged twelve. They’ve been a fairly regular fixture in the media since - speeches, debates, what-have-you. They’re probably one of the most well-known people under twenty. All told, it’d be cool as all hell to meet them in person - but, you feel, lining the halls really isn’t the way to do it. Not to mention they’d be here presumably for the next four to seven years. It’s not like there’s not time.</p><p>Lance disagrees. Or maybe he just wants to be Seen. He’s leaning casually against the wall in an effort to be cool, and keeps trying to catch the eyes of passing students and winking. It’s entirely possible he hasn’t even heard the news, and dragged you out here just for this.</p><p>You check your watch. 7:25. Orientation for new students starts at half past; for seniors, it’s not until quarter to. Sure enough, most of the younger-looking kids have already given up and left - you probably should, too. You may have another twenty minutes yet, but hey, the early bird gets the best seats and it’s not like you’re missing anything here. Honestly, maybe the rumour was just that after all: a rumour. You tap Lance on the shoulder to tell him you’re leaving; he pouts, but tells you to save him a seat before waving you off. He hasn’t filled his quota of ineffectual flirting yet.</p><p>The corridors quieten the further you walk from the entrance, and that’s the only reason you notice the kid standing by the wall, looking faintly bemused. Judging by height they’re a first-year - probably lost, then. You were the same on your first day - marvelling at everything you laid eyes on and then, one thing leading to another, nearly missing induction.</p><p>You walk over; transfixed by the direction you’d come from, they don’t seem to notice. </p><p>“Pretty busy, huh?” you say, startling them out of their daze. “Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. You looked a little lost - are you a first year?”</p><p>They nod.</p><p>“It’ll quieten down soon - the only reason people’re hanging around is because of some rumour that the Ambassador for Monsters will be joining this year - doesn’t look like it’s true, though, or they’d be here by now.”</p><p>Oddly, they smile at that. They make a quick series of gestures - sign language, for sure, but the only word you catch is ‘I’. </p><p>“I knew it was smart to be early,” says their flower pin, and, wait, holy <em> shit </em> that’s the Ambassador.</p><p>“Ahbubwey,” you tell them. Succinctly phrased. The Ambassador’s face splits into a grin, and they extend a hand in greeting. You shake it, dumbly, and then their hands are a blur again. </p><p>The flower pin - which, you now realise, has a face, and a particularly grumpy one at that - translates. “I’m Frisk, but you probably know that, and this is Flowey. Unfortunately.” </p><p>“Ah, um, Hunk,” you say, and rude though it may be your eyes are still fixed on the flower thing. You can’t help it. What <em> is </em> that? A monster? A botanical abomination? It’s not happy, that’s for sure. “Hunk is my name.” You think you hear them whisper, <em> “Appropriate,” </em> but, uh. Surely not. This is the Ambassador for Monsterkind. Must’ve been an auditory hallucination. Certainly upon tearing your gaze away from Flowey, their expression is just as sunnily innocent as it was before. </p><p>“Nice to meet you, probably. Also, what course are you on? I’m incredibly nosy.” Judging by Frisk’s expression, you get the distinct impression that Flowey’s translations are not one hundred percent accurate. “I’m just being honest. Between you and me, big guy, kid’s a little sh- ow, fuck you, that was uncalled-for! Oh, fine. You’re no fun.” </p><p>“Uh, engineering, third year,” you say, as Frisk retracts the hand they’d used to flick at Flowey’s petals.</p><p>“What a coincidence, same, but first year,” says the flower, in a complete monotone. Frisk just shrugs apologetically. The best it gets, huh?</p><p>“Ah, it’s a really good course, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it!”</p><p>“Cool beans. Hey, idiot, look at the time - we’re gonna be late, and it’ll be your fault.” Frisk’s smile drops, and their eyes dart to the watch strapped to their wrist; you’re pretty sure the word they mouth is quite inappropriate, but the one they sign is recognisably ‘sorry’, quickly followed by ‘goodbye’. </p><p>“Oh, uh, bye, see you around I guess?” you stammer, still not totally recovered from the ten seconds you thought Flowey had been addressing <em> you. </em> </p><p>They smile encouragingly, and sign something you don’t catch, but their translator does - “Smell ya later.” The pair disappear down the corridor, leaving you standing by yourself.</p><p>What a start to the academic year.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>A few weeks pass, and education is really getting into swing. Man, he’d forgotten just how much homework his professors would set, especially this time of year - let nobody accuse the Garrison staff of easing their students into the new year, no sir.</p><p>He sees Frisk around a few times over the next few weeks, but only in passing - they always seem to be surrounded by half a dozen or so of their fellow first years, which figures; even without their fame, judging by the five-minute conversation and their background, they’re probably the type to make friends easily. They always wave if they see him, though, which is kinda nice.</p><p>It’s on one of these occasions that he’s walking to the canteen, accompanied by Lance, when they come bustling from the other direction. They shoot him a cheery smile and a wave, which Hunk returns - much to Lance’s surprise.</p><p><em> “Guys,” </em> he says urgently, “Guys, <em> the Ambassador waved at you.” </em></p><p>“Yep,” replies Hunk.</p><p>“They <em> waved. </em> And <em> smiled.” </em></p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“At <em> you.” </em></p><p>“Ye- hey!”</p><p>“Man, what happened? When? Where? How? <em> Tell me.” </em></p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>The roof door bleeps gently behind Pidge, startling her. She's formulating excuses in her head, but, much to her surprise, it's not one of the night guards who steps out, but the Ambassador.</p><p>"Frisk?" she whisper-shouts, startling them; on reflex they dive to one side, executing a perfect forward roll into what she's pretty sure is some kind of combat stance.</p><p>Seeing Pidge, they immediately realise their mistake and straighten up, face red. “Hi Pidge,” they sign, "I didn't think anyone else would be here, sorry. I'll...go somewhere else..."</p><p>"Oh, uh, it's fine. If you go now you'll just get caught, and that would be mean of me."</p><p>“Thank you,” they sign, and they sit a short distance away: far enough to give her space, close enough that if she wants to talk to them, she won't have to speak too loud.</p><p>She doesn't want to pry, so she goes back to monitoring the radio waves; she can't resist glancing surreptitiously their way every now and then, however. They're hugging their knees to their chest, gazing endlessly into space.</p><p>They must see her looking because suddenly they whisper, "Isn't space beautiful?"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> ...Chara? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Mhm? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ...We don't have to go. Not if you don't want. I know... I know it's only been a few years, and it hasn't always been great, and a hundred years away from mum and dad, and now...now, maybe never seeing them again... if you don't want to, it's okay. We don't have to go. </em>
</p><p>There's a long silence. Then, smile in their tone, <em> Are you kidding me, Frisk? I named myself after a star and pressured you into space school, do you really think I'd pass up the opportunity to see </em> actual alien solar systems? Geez, <em> Frisk, it's like you don't know me at </em>all.</p><p>A pause, then, quieter, <em> And, it's not about us, or what we want, is it? That alien ship - alien warship - it was heading to Earth. Maybe just for the Lion, but we can't know that - you heard Shiro. They destroy worlds... as much good as we can do as Monster Ambassador, it won't help if we're attacked by aliens with technology that advanced. We'd be sitting ducks. I don't... I don't know what's beyond that portal. I don't know what will happen, to us, to Earth, to our save ability. But, there's a good chance we could end up in a better position to stop this. Prevention is better than a cure, right? And we can solve anything with diplomacy. I think it's worth the risk. We can't...we can't bring feelings into this. Not when the whole planet is at stake. We, we have to go. </em></p><p>Their voice wavers. Frisk doesn't have to share a headspace to know they're not nearly as resolute as they're trying to make out, but they don't comment. God only knows what's at stake here, and, well...at least they'll get to say goodbye.</p><p><em> Do you think, </em> mumbles Chara, <em> That we could send messages to their families? ...do you think we should? </em></p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>“So,” says Flowey, oddly cheery, “You're back soon. Who's the murderer?”</p><p>“...There isn't one.”</p><p>“...What?”</p><p>“No murder. No kidnapping. There's…” they trail off. Sigh. “Aliens exist. I guess... I guess we were kinda kidnapped, by some sort of sentient lion spaceship? Were about to go through...I don't know. A portal. Wormhole. Death oval. I thought, go through, gather more intel. Chara said, go home. We don’t...we don't know where it goes, what it does, if it affects saving. So...this is a goodbye. This is important. I can feel it. On the off chance saving works...I need to be there. This is bigger than all of us.”</p><p>[...]</p><p>"Are you sure? You don't have to come, and...and I don't know if we'll ever be coming back."</p><p>"Chara's going with you, right?" they nod. "Then you know my answer. The surface was getting boring anyway."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>note: frisk uses sign language, chara uses voice. also pidge's name sign is the same as for 'pigeon' :)</p><p>in general the premise was:</p><p>A few years after freeing the monsters, Frisk joins the Galaxy Garrison. A bunch of kids go missing; Frisk reloads &amp; investigates, expecting to stop a kidnapping, &amp; end up up embroiled in the whole voltron thing. They're not a lion pilot and don't really have a role - or so the rest believe. Their secret, of course, being that actually they're kinda 2 people and they still retain their reset powers. They stick around because Voltron is Hella Important &amp; therefore nobody is allowed to die on their watch - regardless of what's going on at home (which isn't good. the monster ambassador just disappeared. whoops.)</p><p>this first chapter would've been an outside view of Frisk by Lance, Hunk, &amp; Pidge, in the 2nd timeline (ie. Frisk knows they go missing but not how or why; is aware Pidge=Katie Holt bc of news reports).</p><p>possibly the most important parts were Frisk &amp; Chara becoming best buds with Coran and also Frisk repeatedly absolutely flooring Lance with their godawful pickup lines.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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